Feb. 14th, 2006

not_that_spike: (thinking of mars)
"Jet?"

Well, fuck, this is a familiar routine... and I couldn't be happier. No answering voice comes back, but there's a familiar dripping and the sound of feet on metal and the quiet hush of deep space. Spike turns to Beth and grins.

"Just like before. Welcome back."

He almost says welcome home but that would really only be true for him: even though he wants his home to be her home always, always, always. "Now we can figure out where we're going next. Whenever we feel like it."

Maybe a night or two here wouldn't be such a bad damn thing. Maybe they ought to call Doc first before just parking the Swordfish on the roof of his building in downtown Tharsis City.

Or maybe they should just take some time to themselves. He leads Beth through the cobalt-blue-darkened corridors to the ship's main cabin and takes a look out the viewing windows.

Mars. Just like fucking magic. He's glad he's not the religious type, or he'd be praying his thanks right now and then they'd kick him out of the too-cool-for-that-shit club. "Want to set our things down? How are you feeling?" His eyes travel to her belly for a moment, as if somehow simply walking through that door could have caused anything to change.

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